


Round Trips

by nioka



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: ??? - Freeform, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-25
Updated: 2013-03-25
Packaged: 2017-12-06 11:01:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nioka/pseuds/nioka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This silence isn’t the type that feels awkward and it isn’t the kind that always makes you wish that you were a better conversationalist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Round Trips

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, this is probably really shitty! I'm terribly sorry... (Moved over from Tumblr.)

It falls silent between the two of you for the first time in what seems like forever.

It isn’t as if you talk very often with each other, anyway, and, if you do, it’s usually brief and short before breaking way to the same quiet that fills the room now. 

This time, it’s different.

This silence isn’t the type that feels awkward and it isn’t the kind that always makes you wish that you were a better conversationalist. 

It leaves room between the two of you for you to let your actions speak louder than words because that’s how it’s supposed to be, isn’t it? At least, that’s what you were always taught when you were younger, but let’s face it: you’re just as bad with actions as you are with words, if not worse.

(It’s a little pathetic, really.)

It’s frustrating. The one thing that isn’t quiet between the two of you are your raging thoughts and, even though the boy sitting next to you in the almost abandoned bus seat (you still can’t believe that both of you missed your stop while talking so much— maybe that’s why you don’t do it very often) seems to be waiting in the same way you are, neither of you make a move.

You imagine that he’s going over his options in his head, or something like that. He’s far more intelligent than you are, despite popular belief, and you came to realize that such a long time ago (not easily, of course, because nothing ever comes  _easily_  to you when accepting someone is yet again better, even if you’re used to it). Unfortunately, it also makes you a little bit jealous. If he’s so much better at memorizing things (he probably remembers what your favorite candy is and that you hardly eat any at all, even though you told him this approximately seven months ago— seriously, this guy!), then why isn’t he putting that to use by remembering that you really, really, really suck at these sorts of situations? You don’t pin him off as a guy who’s much better than you in this instance, but at least he has a little more of an advantage, especially when you’re the one with sweaty palms and— gah, really, when did they get this way?

Gross…

Alright, calm down, Hajime! You can’t just freak out about this whole predicament, you tell yourself, and if you leave the silence hanging any longer, you’ll miss your chance. After all, you can already hear the bus driver announcing the next stop, and even though you aren’t sure when the end of your unintentional trip is coming, surely it must be soon. It’s getting darker and darker and suddenly, you feel a little bad for the person who has this sort of life.

Always driving others where they need to go, boosting them up and telling them to be hopeful, even though they never get to go anywhere for themselves. Even though they’re constantly saying how much they’re  _trash_ , and even now, when the ride is going to end soon, you can’t help but think about how much you want to help that person, and how much you’ve suddenly learned about them just by giving them the time and—

That had nothing to do with bus drivers, did it? Ugh, wait, where is your mind going? Frustration fills you fairly quickly, but maybe this frustration is just the boost you need. It’s the boost you need to push you out of your nervousness and inevitable self pity. And it’s  _this_  boost that convinces you to push yourself up on your seat just enough to lean over to the boy sitting next to you, whose gaze had traveled to the window but, man, does it travel back to you so quickly at your slightest sound, and it’s  _this_ boost that convinces you to get close enough for your lips to brush, but god  _dammit_ is your luck bad because this is the exact moment where you freeze up.

It’s the exact moment where you freeze up and wonder about what the hell you’re even doing, especially when this wasn’t asked for, when this wasn’t prepared. Kisses weren’t supposed to be prepared, right, and even though you were so sure before that he was going to go for the same thing, now you’re suddenly unsure. You’ve left yourself lingering there, stiff and uncomfortable, and it’s not very hard to tell that he’s frozen just the same as you are.

Squeezing your eyes shut as you begin to lean back, not wanting to face the consequences set before you because of some stupid move, you find yourself stopping in your movements as suddenly, there’s a light grip on your arm and, damn, you don’t open your eyes but you hope to whatever god exists that the hand isn’t there to push you away—

Whoever this god is must be feeling pretty generous, too, because you’re being pulled back towards the other boy to close the distance that was barely there in the first place and now it’s gone, it disappears, and even the silence that still controls the atmosphere around you doesn’t separate the two of you. 

You reach for his forearm as his hand slips away from yours, trailing down until you’re barely grasping his fingers in between yours but, even if the touch is so light and you’re so nervous, you don’t want him to pull away and you don’t want to pull away.

The kiss is sloppy and unprepared (so maybe kisses were truly meant to be planned— or at least practiced). Your noses bump and you internally wince, but that doesn’t matter, because you’re not moving yet, especially for no reason. You tilt your head, trying to supply the other boy with another kiss and, as your other hand reaches up to touch his shoulder, you can feel his free hand resting down near your waist— is this even right? Are you doing this correctly? There’s no way to tell.

It’s hard to ignore, but if your touches are hesitant, then his are barely there. Nagito, the boy who always tells you to be hopeful and that you  _are_ hope, that you’re full of it, can’t even have enough faith in you to realize that you’re not bothered by him touching you. He must not realize that you want him to, that you want to feel his hands on you  just as you’re offering yours to him, and this bothers you, because really, all you want to do is ease him out of his insecurity, even it’s only around you. That’s all that matters.

Bringing your hand down from his shoulder and pulling the hand you’re holding along with your own, you gently lead it to your waist, covering over it so that he can’t pull away. You make sure that the touch isn’t tight or too much, but rather, it’s comfortable, and you like it, you really like it, even if he’s still as hesitant as ever.

The kiss has been going on for quite a bit now, and you feel that you’re going to run out of breath soon if you don’t pull away, but you don’t want to. You don’t want this to end, you don’t want to break the kiss first, but if you don’t, then you know that neither of you will.

Gradually, you begin to pull back despite your reluctant feelings, and you open your eyes, doing so just in time to meet Nagito’s gaze. Suddenly, despite how bold you had been compared to him during the whole kiss, you feel embarrassed and shy and nervous all over again, but that’s a feeling you don’t want to have, it’s sort of scary and vulnerable. After all, you’re supposed to be the one fixing things, not running away from them, so you force yourself to hold the gaze steady.

At least you aren’t the only one that feels this way, or at least, you assume this, because Nagito’s face is just as red as yours feels. The sight comes as a relief, causing you to exhale slowly, only to cough sheepishly as an immediate after thought. What’s to say, really? You can’t think at the moment, and—

“Hinata-kun.”

Why isn’t he the one turning his head away? Are you the only one that feels the urge to? You almost speak up, sure that he’s going to say something self deprecating, but before you can, he continues.

“Hinata-kun, your hands are still—”

“Oh, right, you’re right, sorry.” You didn’t mean to interrupt him, but the words stumbled out of your mouth before you got the chance to stop them. The statement left you feeling flustered, anyway, so not hearing the rest of it didn’t really bother you. Forcing yourself out of your distracting thoughts, you lift your hands so that Nagito can move his, only to stop one of them short without putting much thought into it. “Um, Komaeda,” you begin, but you’re suddenly unable of what you want to say.

You can’t just stop there, though, so you make yourself continue, despite your frantic nerves. It’s going to take a lot out of you to say this next words, that’s for sure, so taking a deep breath and closing your eyes briefly before opening your mouth, you go on.

“Komaeda, I want to—”

_“Last stop. We’ve reached the final stop. You two boys back there, get a move on. I don’t have all night.”_

Your earlier sympathy for the bus driver dissipates, only being left with annoyance and some sort of regret. Now your statement seems sort of stupid, especially since you didn’t finish, but you can’t do that now. No, not after building up the courage and having it stolen away from someone you hardly know.

Gathering your things and standing, you make your way down the aisle and off of the bus, jumping down from the last step and onto the ground. You immediately feel childish for doing so, but you doubt Nagito minds or even notices, so you turn around and wait for him to stand in front of you again.

As soon as you see his face, you offer a small, awkward smile. “This is good night, then.” You say this softly, but clear your throat shortly afterwards. There’s no use in being shy now, is there? Especially around  Nagito, you think, but of course, you keep those thoughts to yourself.

“Ah, good night—” You hear him begin, but he stops himself, and that surprises you. “…Hinata-kun, what were you going to say before?”

What do you say now? You can’t just.. You can’t actually go through with what you were saying, but to brush it off would be.. well, it wouldn’t be kind. You have to choose one or the other, though, and it seems as if your time is quickly running out, so panic swells up inside of you as you turn away, laughing sheepishly.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say, as your back turns on Nagito and as you begin to walk, telling yourself not to glance back, because if you do, you’ll feel guilty, and you really don’t want that. 

“Ah, well… See you later, Hinata-kun.”

“See you later,” you add as an after thought, but you soon realize that doing so is just as bad looking back at his disappointed expression.


End file.
